Death Before Dishonor
by UtterlyDisappoint
Summary: As Haku dies, he reflects upon the rapid string of events that became his relationship with Momochi Zabuza. Rated M because reasons. First fic ever guys, gracious me.
1. Human

(A/N) Sup guys I don't know what I'm doing here. I guess I'm writing secret Zaku fanfiction, oh okay, how embarrassing. I was just rewatching Naruto for no explainable reason and I fell in love with the pairing during the amazingly long Land of Waves saga. Great. I haven't exactly written fanfiction before, so if you've got time maybe you can tell me what you think? I dunno. If you want to. Or you can just ignore this because Zaku is the opposite of pertinent to anything in the series right now. Let me stop rambling. Have a read. And those of you who clicked on this because of the little M down there, stay cool until the next chapter, okay? I'll try my very hardest.  
>Oh hey also I don't own Naruto because if I did I'd probably have a little more money than I do now.<p>

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_Your lungs have been pierced by the Leaf ninja's attack, but you do not die. Your eyes slide to one side to make sure that, yes, you did succeed in protecting Zabuza-sama. Even so, you knew he was alive before because you could feel the warmth of his body from where he stood behind you and the rush of his breath against the back of your neck. You want him to acknowledge you, so you try to smile at him, but you are unable to turn your head far enough for him to see you- if he even wants to. Your breath is stopped by the rising liquid in your throat and you cough up a stream of blood. In a last-gasp attempt to help Zabuza-sama, you take hold of the Leaf ninja's wrist to prevent him from using it to attack. The breath against your neck quickens, and a subtle whooshing noise suggests that your teacher's huge sword is in motion. Whatever happens next is lost to the roaring of blood in your ears and a soft dizziness that you fight against with all your strength. For a moment, you fail._

You are carried back to an earlier time in your life- a simpler time when your rapidly evolving abilities were allowing you further and further into Zabuza-sama's favor. It had been years since you left Kirigakure with him. Next month would be your sixteenth birthday- but a few weeks from then your life would be cut short. You remember the sun that day, melting your ice mirrors as you practiced your jutsu. As you approached the end of your fifteenth year, you had begun to notice subtle changes in yourself. New strength in your muscles for one thing, as well as the slow growth of hair aside from the long brown locks on the top of your head. You'd also begun to notice Zabuza-sama a little more than you used to. Granted, you had always looked up to him and admired him, but up until that point you hadn't seen him as anything more than your teacher and savior. Now you saw him as a man. No longer were you satisfied with his need for you as his weapon. You were the most favorable weapon you could be, excelling in your ninja arts and quickly and obediently absorbing everything he had taught you. As you grew into a young man, you wished Zabuza-sama would need you in a different way. Just as you needed him. Still, you trained hard that day, wishing to show Zabuza-sama that you had improved by the time he returned from an assignment from his then-employer. It was dark by the time you heard the slam of the front door and his footsteps in the hallway. With the stirrings in your stomach that you always experienced when he got home swirling like a whirlpool, you piled the curry you'd prepared for him onto a plate and watched the door expectantly. It took him a while to reach it. When he finally entered the kitchen, you saw that he was limping and covered in blood. With a quiet gasp you rushed to his side.

"Zabuza-sama..." you breathed. A slim line of blood oozed from his lip onto your sleeve as he slouched over you.

"Get this fucking blood off me, will you, boy?" he rasped.

You nodded breathlessly and rushed to the sink to wet a towel. No matter how many times he came home injured, it still worried you. You abhor violence in all it's forms, and death paralyzes you. Somehow, however, you willed yourself to kill for Zabuza-sama's sake. You lost track of how many people you and he killed together. You could no longer count on two hands how many times he came home to you, mortally wounded, bleeding onto the floor, and asked you to bring him back. Towel in hand, you began with a long gash across his right shoulder blade. As you cleaned the crusted blood from inside and around the cut, Zabuza-sama cursed quietly. The muscles in his back tensed and contracted under his damp skin. Dimly and without warning, the urge to bend down and kiss his skin seeped through you, and your eyes shut tight with shame. Even you, who grew up under such strange circumstances, knew that feelings of that nature toward another man weren't normal. He himself seemed immune to temptations of any kind, never having shown interest in much of anything outside of fighting, training, eating and sleeping. You had always wondered how he stood the driving urges that always occupied a corner of your own teenage mind, or if you were simply some sort of anomaly when it came to those particular brain functions. The rest of the wounds were not as deep as the first, but Zabuza-sama still writhed a bit under your hands.

"Fuck," he hissed. "Fucking shit, Haku."

You never knew what to say when he cursed like this, from pain or frustration or whatever else. You supposed you should feel honored that he was willing to show weakness in front of you, but all it did was make you feel terrible for not having been there to help him. With the wounds clean, you used strips of bandage to dress them and salve to prevent infection. Wrapping the bandages around Zabuza-sama allowed for more contact between your fingers and his warm, sticky skin. If you were honest with yourself, you would admit that you probably left your hands there for longer than they needed to be, but you weren't in the mood for honesty just then. As soon as you finished your work Zabuza-sama broke away and sat down in front of his plate of food. The bandages were taken from his face and draped around his neck, and he ate silently. His rather small mouth never ceased to catch you off guard, nor did his perfectly sharp, white teeth or his sharp chin. You blinked, looked away, and folded your hands on your lap, allowing your hair to fall into your face.

"Thank you, you're getting good at that," he said after a few minutes.

"Of course, Zabuza-sama," you answered, unsure of whether he was referring to the bandaging or the food.

You cleaned his plate when he finished eating, gave him a quick bow and a goodnight, and fled to your room. A solid hour of sharpening your senbon did not dull your senses or lessen the gnawing in your stomach. Finally, sitting there on your bed with your hair down and a needle in your hand, you resigned yourself to the fact that you were attracted to Zabuza-sama. The thought freed you, only to lock you into another set of chains as you realized that you could never dream of telling him. He would kill you, or worse, he would leave you. Still, you were imbibed with a feeling of near-euphoria. The ensuing night was not the first time you had ever touched yourself, but it was the first time you had touched yourself while thinking of another person. In your mind's eye, Zabuza-sama's facial bandages hung loose around his neck as you cleaned his wounds. His mouth was visible, and instead of spewing curses it simply breathed out your name.

_Through the gloom, you can still hear and feel certain things. There are arms around you, carrying you, are they his? No, this person reeks of filthy blood and foreign dirt. You are set down onto stone. There are many voices- the hum of the grey-haired Leaf ninja, the familiar growl of Zabuza-sama, a piercing yell from Naruto, the faraway wails of a girl, and, above the tromp of approaching footfalls and thrum of several men, the jeer of Gatou, your employer. Through the clouds of sleep you feel pain in your side as a hard-tipped something is driven into your prone body. Another wave of blood washes into your mouth and dribbles down your chin. The voices become dimmer and the darkness returns._

Your newly discovered love made it harder and harder for you to interact with Zabuza-sama without revealing anything. You put your life on the line for him as you always did, but now the act had new meaning for you. It energized you, having a reason to protect him, and if anything it made you more powerful. When he signed a contract with Gatou, you found yourself on more missions with him than ever before to more corners of the land than you had ever visited. This required longer trips and longer periods alone on the trail with Zabuza-sama. Then, on the way to an assassination assignment in Kumogakure, everything changed. It was raining hard, and you were hunkered down in your tent on the face of a great mountain. Zabuza-sama was out doing god knew what. When he got back, he was once again drenched in blood seeping from a cut on his brow. You remember making some kind of joke about it, actually, and experiencing a sensation in your throat akin to flying when he laughed at it.

"What happened?" you asked as you swept a rag across his bloodied forehead.

A peculiar look flashed onto his face and he looked away with a jerky shrug.

"Zabuza-sama, you know you can tell me anything," you said boldly. You even went as far as laying a hand over his wrist. "Who am I to judge?"

After a few moments, he pulled the bandages from his face, puckered his mouth into a grimace, and muttered "I slipped."

"Everyone makes mistakes sometimes," you laughed quietly. "Thank you for reminding me that you're still human."

You smiled serenely and helped him shrug out of his sopping wet cloak, allowing yourself an unassailable brush of a finger or two against his neck. You were overjoyed into silence when he allowed you to lean on his thigh with one hand while you finished cleaning his forehead with the other. His skin was warm and alive through his soaked pants. Then you made the mistake of looking up into his eyes. He was so close, you could see every individual eyelash and feel his slow breath against your face. You couldn't help yourself. You simply couldn't. With a determined clench of your jaw, you leaned into the mere two inches separating your faces and pressed your full lips against his. His mouth was warm and moist and his lips were softer than you expected. Almost instantaneously, his hand connected with your cheek and sent you sprawling against the wall of the tent. You tasted blood in your mouth from where you bit down on the inside of your cheek.

"Zabuza-sa-"

"Shut up," he growled. "Never fucking do that again, do you hear me?"

You hung your head and fought with all your might to prevent tears from spilling over. Zabuza-sama lay down on his tatami mat facing the stark tent wall, pulled a blanket over his shoulders, and blew out the lantern. You were left to shiver and gasp against the opposite wall, swallowing your blood and wondering why you'd let yourself go like that. A dull pain began to manifest itself in your cheekbone where a bruise would surely form. Eventually, when you thought you could detect a pattern of sleep in Zabuza-sama's breathing, you crawled over to your tatami mat and lay on your back, staring at the canvas ceiling. Your grief was immeasurable. You wished for death. Zabuza-sama had been repulsed by your advances. You would be lucky if he would even finish this mission with you, but you suspected that he would leave you the next morning once the storm blew over. You had failed as his weapon and the sorrow you felt for yourself was dwarfed only by the sorrow you felt for him.

"Haku."

His voice frightened you an inch from death. If you had known he was awake you would have been quieter.

"Y-yes, Zabuza-sama?"

"Did I hurt you?"

You wanted to accept the relief that threatened to drown you, but you thought it too good to be true. He still needed you. He still cared.

"Not very much, Zabuza-sama," you whispered. "I deserved it."

"No," he replied after a few moments. "You didn't."

You were too stunned to reply. You were too shocked to react when he turned over and brushed a finger against the bruise on your face. You did not sleep that night. The next morning when you rose and packed up camp, he did not speak of it. It would be days before he did.

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Shit shit this is so weird. K so I'll put the next one up later or something. Maybe I can get some feedback before I do? I dunno let's just see how this shit goes.


	2. Stop Me

A/N: Whoop whoop here we go guys. Look out here comes me trying too hard!

_You awaken to the sound of feet against stone, tapping all around you, so close to your face you could lean forward and kiss the shoes of whoever was running past. Men are yelling. Dying. Who is responsible for all this? You cannot see, but you do have one guess._

Since the day the two of you met, you seemed to age at twice the rate Zabuza-sama did. Whatever he taught you was dutifully absorbed and mastered in half the time it would've taken someone less devoted to the cause than you. At first, you had trouble understanding why he took you with him that frigid night so long ago. You also wondered sometimes where your first words to him had come from: "we have the same eyes." You were exhausted and hungry, and you could hardly see the man's face. However, something in you seemed to connect with something in him, and you were utterly grateful walk away from your spot at the side of the road by his side, with his warm, strong hand on your head. You supposed something in you always knew that you would fall in love with him, even before you knew what that sort of love was.

None of this meant that you weren't terrified of him. For the first few weeks- no, for the first few months of your time together, you could hardly speak to him. He never told you much of anything, either, not even the night you left the village together. He never explained why he wanted to kill the Mizukage, nor did he enlighten you as to why he would ever want to rule a village that would fear him as much as the citizens of Kirigakure did. No, he simply trained you in his spare time, teaching you all he knew about the ninja arts and helping you harness the power of your kekkei genkai. (When you were younger you'd also toyed with the idea that your bloodline power was the main reason he kept you around.) On the night he told you he was leaving the village, you offered to accompany him as his weapon. From that day on, every new day found you a little fonder of your teacher. More devoted. By the time you turned fifteen, you could no longer imagine life without him.

You reached Kumogakure after a few more strained days of camping. The assassination did not go as smoothly as was predicted. When it was all over you were both worse for wear. As the mist from Zabuza-sama's jutsu cleared, you lay with a kunai sunk deep into your shoulder and a dozen or so knife cuts in your legs and stomach in a puddle of melted ice and blood. You wanted to find Zabuza-sama, to make sure he was alright, but it was difficult to move. There were three dead men around you, including the one you were paid to kill. Their eyes were open- watching your shaky attempts to stand and passing their private judgements upon you. You got to your feet and looked around to see Zabuza-sama a few feet away, leaning heavily against a tree. It took an eternity for you to drag yourself up to him and collapse against the tree.

"You alright?" he muttered.

"Yes," you replied. "The job is done."

"He's dead?"

"Yes."

"You did well, Haku."

You pushed your torn clothing from your shoulder and, with a quick hum of pain, tore the kunai from your flesh and threw it to the ground. Then you turned to Zabuza-sama, whose wounds seemed to be less extensive than yours. You were about to say something about getting back to your room at a local inn to dress his injuries when he pulled the bandages from his face and looked you squarely in the eyes. Immediately your thoughts swung to the hunter-nin mask on your face. You pulled it off, wanting to see eye to eye, but Zabuza-sama looked away as soon as your face was exposed. His dark eyes darted to the weeping cut on your shoulder.

"They hurt you," he spat. It wasn't like him to go around stating the obvious.

"That tends to happen in battles, Zabuza-sama," you replied cautiously. "It's nothing serious."

He said nothing, but leaned forward with a grimace of pain and, placing a hand on your upper arm, pressed a small kiss to your bare shoulder. You failed stop a small gasp from escaping your lips. The patch of skin that his lips touched felt numb. What had happened to "never fucking doing that again?" Had his reaction been an honest one? Your mind clouded with pungent confusion. Without another word, he stood up, helped you to your feet, and trudged back in the direction of the inn. You followed dazedly behind, mind blank and racing at the same time. Your room was dark, as Zabuza-sama always insisted that the curtains stayed closed. Even so, the late sunset cast deep, orange light onto the bed and wall opposite the window. As soon as the door shut behind you Zabuza-sama tromped into the bathroom and slammed the door. Water ran, and you stared out through the crack between the two curtains until the sun left a blinking blue-green line across your vision. After he finished his shower, you took one as well to wash the dirt from your hair and the dry blood from your skin and under your fingernails. You dried off, dressed your injuries, shrugged into a crisp, blue kimono, and slipped back into the bedroom, combing a hand through your damp hair.

Zabuza-sama was sitting on the edge of the bed. You joined him there, sitting as close as you dared. Neither of you uttered a word for a very long time. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, his low voice cut through you like a sword.

"How do you see me, Haku?"

Such a difficult question, how could you respond without revealing your feelings? Somehow, you felt as if it would be alright to be honest at that point, as crazy as that notion sounded.

"You are my teacher, Zabuza-sama, as well as my partner and my friend," you said. "I am your weapon, and I would do anything to help you. You are... special to me. My greatest wish is to always be by your side and- and to help you succeed."

At least you hadn't said the L-word. Without it, your otherwise obvious confession could pass as platonic devotion. However, the look on Zabuza-sama's face didn't look platonic. This might've been the first time you had ever seen the man come anywhere close to blushing. With that curious look plastered on his face, he leaned forward, ran his fingers through the stringy locks of hair that were dripping onto your kimono, and gripped your chin in his calloused palm. Then he kissed you again, and your heart strained in your chest. This time, his lips moved softly against yours and he accepted your arms as they twined around his neck. You were kissing him- kissing Momochi Zabuza as you had wished you could for such a long time. Your heart beat hard and you pressed yourself against him, nearly climbing into his lap. After a few breathless minutes he began to pull away, but you kept a firm grasp around his tanned neck and whispered into his ear.

"Please don't stop, Zabuza-sama, I've wanted this for so long."

You felt his arms settle around your waist, cradling you.

"You're young," he murmured. "Too young."

"Not anymore," you said with a warm smile. "I am not a boy anymore. And now I want you to let me prove it to you."

His chest rose and fell beneath you as you slid fully onto his lap, one leg on either side of his muscular thighs. When he didn't reply, you brought your mouth to his ear again and slowly shifted your hips against his.

"Why did you kiss me then, if you didn't want this?" you whispered. He had always been a man of few words. You wondered what excuse he would give- how he would blame this on you.

"I never said I didn't want this," he replied.

_You cannot open your eyes, but you know that he is next to you on the ground. You can smell his blood, hear his breath, and sense his fluid chakra. He speaks; "thank you, Kakashi," and you experience a twang of jealousy. It took him a week to stop calling you "boy," and yet he already addresses his enemy by name after a mere two days of knowing him? Still, he is there by your side as you lay dying, and that is what counts. You are only dimly aware of the fact that he is dying as well._

You kissed him again then, pressed against his warm body on the edge of the bed in the rapidly darkening room, this time opening your mouth to him and letting your tongues touch. His mouth had a faintly metallic taste to it. When he broke the kiss again, his mouth immediately traveled to the curve of your neck. He bit you there- you felt your skin snap under his pointed teeth, then he tongued the tiny wound almost tenderly. Your heart beat rapidly beneath his teeth. With a hiss, you clutched his neck in your arms and ground your hips against his again.

"Haku," he growled your name into your hair. He took your hips in his hands and pushed them down a little harder.

Acidic heat collected between your legs. With a grunt, he turned you around and pushed you down onto your back, slinking over you like a predator. He settled his pelvis against yours and moved roughly against you. His lips captured yours again.

"Stop me," he murmured against your mouth, kissing you between words. "This is dishonorable."

"Since- mmmh, when is it dishonorable, _ah... _to deny a friend what he wants most in the world?"

You refused to quit now that you knew he wanted it too. He obviously had inhibitions, deep down you knew you did as well, but you would move past them together. You would prove to him that it wasn't wrong. You kissed him furiously, running your hands over his bare chest, carefully avoiding the cuts he'd acquired during that day's fight. He, on the other hand, seemed to be drawn to the fresh kunai wound on your shoulder. He ran his fingers along the perimeter of the surgical tape that held a piece of pink-tinged gauze against the cut and even pressed the center of it a few times, eliciting a small moan of discomfort from you. Every bit of what Zabuza-sama was doing to you was new- you'd never even kissed someone before. You didn't know how normal it was to focus so much on your partner's cuts or even to add more, but you decided that you didn't care. He would never truly hurt you, his weapon.

A few more minutes of lying there kissing rendered you dizzy with lust, and you tried to initiate something new.

"Zabuza-sama," you whispered.

He broke away and stared down at you with an impenetrable expression.

"I- I want you to... Please..." you couldn't figure out how to say it without sounding uncouth. "I want you to be my first."

After a few seconds of staring, he shut his eyes and put a hand to his forehead. When he opened them again and looked down at you, his face was unreadable.

"I don't like this, Haku," he finally mumbled.

You stared at him, momentarily unable to come up with an argument to keep him there, and he took that opportunity to push off of the bed and stand up. You gazed imploringly up at him, pulling the collar of your kimono up from where it had fallen over your shoulder, but he did not answer your silent demand. You did not think to get up until he was fully dressed and stalking toward the door.

"Zabuza-sama, wait-!" your voice sounded choked as you called from the opposite end of the room. He probably thought it weak. "_Wait_!"

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Okay then. Next chapter someday.


	3. Promise

A/N: Why am I even putting this here I have nothing to say. Enjoy... this.

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_A finger of cold brushes against your face- snow? You'd still recognize the feeling of snow if you were deaf, dumb, and blind._

You made it into the foyer just as he was shutting the door behind him. Your bare toes whispered against the mats on the floor as you slipped your foot between the door and the frame, and your face pinched with pain as the door knocked against it. Strings of hair hung in your eyes as you stared at his silhouette against the lights in the hallway. Your hand darted out to grab onto him, and you were surprised to find that your fingers could almost encircle his wrist. He didn't break away as you expected him to, but his arm strained against your tight grip. Beneath hastily wrapped bandages, his face betrayed none of his feelings, if he even had any. Only a slight trembling in his arm hinted at something else. Somewhere on the way to the door, your breathing had picked up, and now every breath you took was loud and thick. As you stared at one another, stock-still in between your room and the hallway and at a crossroads in your relationship, you felt something inside you boil over.

"I will not beg," you said as evenly as you could muster. "But I will ask one more time. You've been so kind to me in the past, and I haven't wanted for anything, but- but-... I'm asking for this one thing."

He took a breath like he wanted to say something, but you held your other hand out to silence him. Never before had you been this direct. It terrified you, but you could not stop yourself. You'd held your feelings in for longer than you could bear.

"Be honest with me, Zabuza-sama, that's all I want," you said. Your voice had shrunk to a near-whisper. "Are you attracted to me at all?"

It was a long, agonizing length of time before his gaze left the ceiling and slid down to meet yours. His brows furrowed and his eyes crinkled as if he were glaring- you couldn't tell with those bandages over his face. What he said next seemed to surprise you both.

"Of course I am."

You felt as if you'd just been submerged in water. Your ears were filled with cotton, your eyes covered with gauze, your heart consumed with flames. Though you could not feel the ground beneath your feet, you led Zabuza-sama gently back into the room and pulled the door shut behind you. The room was so dark by then that you could barely see the details of his face, even though it was inches from yours. Gingerly, you backed up until your felt your back brush the wall, pulling him with you.

"Then why won't you make me yours?"

"You _are_ mine," he growled.

"I mean _all_ yours, Zabuza-sama," you insisted, fingers inching over his shoulders and curling through his hair. "All I want is to make you happy."

He was quiet again, apparently content in letting you comb your fingers through his hair. He didn't object when you untied his headband or unwound the bandages from his face. You leaned down and kissed his collarbone, melting into his distinct scent, and still he did not move a muscle or utter a word. After a minute or so, you felt his hands- one on your waist and one against your neck. He pushed your face back from against his skin.

"You're sure?" he asked. His breath was cool against your lips. His tone held something dark and promising.

"Yes, Zabuza-sama."

And without another word, your kimono was torn from your body and whipped out of sight. His mouth and teeth were everywhere, scraping down your neck, brushing across your collarbone, grazing your nipples. You arched into his touch, your hands wandering over his shoulder blades and down the small of his back to the hem of his striped pants. You pulled him more tightly against you and suddenly you could feel his erection pressed against your hip, faintly warm even through a layer of cloth. You hardly caught the few deft movements that led to that last layer of cloth slipping away to lie in a heap at his ankles, and when your bare skin touched you felt as if you'd been shocked.

It was only when his hand wrapped around your cock that you allowed yourself to gasp. Determined to please him as well, you did the same to him. His mouth found yours and you squeezed your eyes shut as you kissed him, all tongue and teeth and fevered breaths. When he pumped you slowly up and down, you swallowed thickly and copied his movements. However, the faster he moved, the harder it became for you to keep up. Soon it was all you could do to keep a limp hand loosely around his cock while he brought you closer and closer to the edge. But you didn't want it to end like that- you couldn't do anything for him if you were that much of a wreck. You snatched his hand away.

"Not yet," you breathed, and he seemed to understand.

_He is speaking to you. You hear him as clearly as you would if you weren't nearly dead. "You were always at my side," he says. "the least I can do is to be beside you at the end." He has never spoken like this to you, and it brings a light tingling to the tips of your frozen fingers._

You found yourself on the floor, pressed by Zabuza-sama's body and mouth and hands hard into the worn mats. His skin was soft and sticky as your fingers raked across his back. You breathed his name. Dimly, you felt his fingers trace over the backs of your thighs to come to rest at- _oh, god-!_ You knew enough to infer why he was doing this, but it still felt strange. The discomfort forced your eyes open, and you saw Zabuza-sama looming over you with eyes heavy-lidded with lust. He reacted immediately when you uttered a gasp in spite of yourself, stopping all movement and looking down at you questioningly.

"N-no, Zabuza-sama," you managed to whisper between breaths. "It's alright."

"You will tell me if I'm hurting you, Haku," he commanded. "Promise."

"Yes-..." your breath hitched as he moved his fingers again. "I promise."

With that, he took his hand away and, with more care than you ever would have expected from a man like him, he entered you- hot and firm and slow. It was all you could do to keep from crying out. He pierced you until you felt pain, until you dug your laquered nails into his biceps and twisted beneath him. Then he pulled out by a fraction, and pushed in again. Gradually, his movements became more fluid and your pain lessened. Every so often he would brush against something inside you that made your body twist in a different way. By then, you no longer tried to mute your gasps. _Zabuza-sama, please, harder._ The feeling was indecribable. _Faster._ You didn't know if you were saying these things or screaming them- all you could hear were your teacher's own muted hisses and growls of effort and pleasure.

Zabuza-sama worked up a steady pace, and soon you were fighting to keep up. His hand found your cock again and his thumb played over the tip. You could hear your bodies hitting one another. The mats began to rub painfully at your back and thighs, but you didn't care. Your shoulder kept knocking against the wall but you didn't care. You were drowning in this absolutely new sensation, this feeling of being absolutely full and so utterly close to the one you loved so much. Your legs were slung over his shoulders, framing his face, and through the constant in and out you could see in his narrow eyes and the parting of his lips that he was feeling what you were feeling.

Your hair stuck fast to your forehead and back. Acid began collecting in your stomach, building until you could no longer tell left from right. _Zabuza-sama._ You squeezed your eyes tightly shut and arched upward, and something in you snapped. Indescribable waves of sensation wracked you as you climaxed, with Zabuza-sama still thrusting into you, his mouth at your neck. It was but a few more seconds before he came as well, shuddering hard and hissing your name.

You both lay there for a moment, hearts beating rapidly and breaths coming in heavy bursts. When he pulled out of you, you tried hard to ignore the strangely empty feeling he left behind. Before he could stand, you sat up and touched your fingers to his chest. When you looked into his eyes, you couldn't help but smile.

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Lol... jesus christ. Sorry this took forever. I just couldn't write it anytime but when I was alone and I'm not exactly alone that often. #FirstWorldProblems


	4. Anything

Hahaha you thought I ended it back there. I'm not THAT sleazy come on guys. Enjoy cheesy endings that I didn't put in the last chapter for some reason.

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_You could never dream of going on to whatever lies after death without him by your side. When you learn that he has that same fear- the same nagging doubt that you have worried about since the day you met him, your tears roll hot and fast down the side of your face. You would give anything to join him wherever he is going._

That night, for the first time, he held you while you slept. He picked you up from the floor and carried you to the bed even though he knew you were perfectly capable of walking yourself, and he curled around you without a word. There was a flash of things to say, but none of them seemed quite appropriate after what had just happened. You did not know where you would go from there. You did not know where he would take you. You were unaware that you would be dead just a few short weeks from then, or that those weeks would be the happiest of your life. You did not know how much the man lying next to you treasured you, and you would not know until the day your lives were ended.

_You would give anything to stay by his side._

(Fin)

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Thank you all for the positive reviews... I wish you could see the shit I flip every time I read one. Originally I wasn't going to continue past this story but you've inspired me to try writing moar cheesy things!

ヽ(；▽；)ノ ILY GUYS

Edit: holy crap it's a SEQUEL SAKJDHFKJSG! From silly Zabuza's point of view. Let's just see how this goes. .net/s/8001899/1/Eventual


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